Flight Suit Attitude
by AWACSBlueLance
Summary: Captain Maxine Caulfield and Major Chloe Price are seasoned pilots of the Arcadia Bay Air Defense Force, an entity separate from the Air National Guard tasked with the defense of coastal Oregon airspace. Although it is peacetime in the United States, a familiar face threatens to set the west coast alight in the fires of war. Special thanks to Nora for editing.
1. Shorebirds

_"**Fighter pilot is an attitude. It is cockiness. It is aggressiveness. It is self-confidence. It is a streak of rebelliousness, and it is competitiveness. But there's something else - there's a spark. There's a desire to be good. To do well; in the eyes of your peers, and in your own mind."**_

** -Lt. Col. Robin Olds, USAF**

* * *

"Snapshot!"

Nothing but blackness, the vaguest hint of light in her vision.

"Snapshot! Pull out of it!"

Consciousness slowly came back to Capt. Max Caulfield, and her vision cleared up. "Snapshot, you alright back there? Max!"The use of her name snapped her back to reality. She looked around and took inventory of her surroundings; the rear cockpit of her and her pilot's F-15E Strike Eagle, nothing but clear skies outside of the canopy.

"Chloe…?" She said, in a daze, shaking her head in an attempt to clear it.

"I'm alright!" She called out.

"Good, you went quiet back there," her pilot said. Just the sound of that voice calmed her down; Maj. Chloe Price, her pilot and girlfriend.

"Yeah, I'm good," she affirmed, clearing her throat. A female voice piped up on the radio.

"Lighthouse 1, sitrep," the voice demanded.

"A-OK. Wizzo suffered G-LOC, but all good now," Chloe responded.

"Roger," the radio voice said, "Picture clear, airspace sanitized. All callsigns, RTB."

Max's faculties were still slow to return; it took her a moment to remember the female voice on the radio belonged to their squadron's flight controller, AWACS Cheerleader. Max looked at the wings and saw they were clean, despite her explicitly remembering them taking off with a full load of AMRAAMs.

"Misfit, we're clean? What happened?" she said.

Chloe turned her head back briefly like she was looking back at Max.

"Jesus, how hard did you fall out? You don't remember _anything _that just happened?"

Max wracked her brain for a second to try to recall something, anything, but everything after takeoff was a blank.

"Better have the docs take a look at you when we get back," Chloe said, as they banked to their return vector and levelled off.

Max switched to the private closed-circuit radio channel that they shared. "What... _did_ happen?" she asked uncertainly.

Chloe was silent for a moment.

"12 unknowns blew in outta nowhere an hour ago, and the nerds upstairs called 'em hostile. We got up here to intercept and it was more of Prescott's drones. These were good, too. It was a helluva fight to clear 'em out, but we did. I was pulling hella G's back there, I'm not surprised you blacked out. I keep forgetting you're not as tough as I am," Chloe said, looking back towards Max briefly.

Max chuckled. "Shut up! Most wizzos aren't usually paired with crazy pilots."

"Yep, yep, I'm fuckin' insane in the brain!" Chloe said, laughing and pulling off a quick aileron roll. Max smiled and shook her head ruefully. Chloe always knew how to make her feel better. She looked off to the right and saw one of their wingmen, an EA-18G, come up alongside them. Another female voice piped up on the radio. "This is Lighthouse 4, Snapshot, what's your status?"

Before Max could answer, Chloe cut her off.

"She's fine now, she just couldn't handle my sick maneuvers."

Max could see the EA-18G's pilot shaking her head.

"Misfit, you be careful with that girl," she said in a chastising tone.

"I'm alright, thanks, Kate," Max said. The EA-18G tipped its wings and fell back to a trailing position behind them.

* * *

The sun descended towards the horizon as Max sat on the bench in the locker room, lost in thought, exhaustedly rubbing her face as her thoughts swirled around in her head. The sound of footsteps shook her from her reverie. She turned around, and saw that it was Chloe approaching. "Hey," she said softly, coming up to the bench and sitting next to Max, "Are you alright?"

The witty banter from earlier was gone, replaced now by a tone of genuine concern.

Max nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay."

Chloe stood up, pulling Max to her feet and into a hug.

"You really scared me," she admitted. "I'm sorry, I got way too aggressive up there."

Max chuckled.

"You always are," she said with a smile.

Chloe smiled slightly as they pulled apart and sat back down again.

"So what exactly happened to you?" Chloe asked, squeezing Max's hand.

"I don't know... I remember taking off, and then I came to when you were calling out to me, I don't remember anything else."

Her tone was worried, and Chloe didn't miss it, sitting in thought for a moment.

"I've never heard of anything like that," Chloe said.

"Chloe," Max started, "I've been through G-LOC before. In training and all that. This was nothing like that. You black out, and then you come back after a moment. Today was like I got hit in the head with a bat, everything was foggy and my head has been hurting ever since."

Chloe sat silently for a long moment.

"Do you want me to pull you off the line for a couple of days? We can have Steph or Mikey ride behind me for a bit," she said.

Max shook her head.

"No, it's alright. I'll see how I feel tomorrow, and we can talk about it then."

Chloe nodded.

"Alright," she agreed, leaning over and kissing Max again. "Come on," she rose to her feet, "It's been a long day, you should eat something. We both should."

Max stood as well.

"Alright. Thanks, Chloe," she said, wrapping her arm around Chloe's waist.

"I'd do anything for you, Max. You know that, right?" She said. Max's reply was to return a kiss.

"Right."

* * *

The briefing room was unusually quiet as Maj. Wells strode back and forth in front of the projector screen, describing the day's operations.

Typically briefings were like a high school classroom when there was nothing more important than a CAP planned for the day, but the prospect of actual combat had everyone much more tense than usual. Wells pointed at a diagram of their immediate airspace, into which 12 red arrows penetrated from the northwest.

"This is the expected incursion vector, same as last time," he said, "Long range radars detected the telltale returns of MQ-99 rotary launch patterns out at sea at 0440 this morning. Currently we're not sure if they were deployed via aircraft or surface vessel, but that's part of what you're going to find out. According to the intelligence projections, the UAVs should be penetrating our airspace in about an hour, same as usual. Your objective is to shoot down all hostile aircraft, and then proceed out into Pacific airspace and attempt to ascertain the UAVs' launch method before it slips away."

"Any questions?" he added, as the screen went blank and the lights flicked back on. Dead silence.

"Alright. Dismissed, and good luck up there," he said with a curt nod, proceeding out of the door to the right of the screen. The assorted crewmen in the room stood up in a hustle and crowded to the equipment room. The usual hustle and bustle of the base, the sounds of people cutting up, equipment being moved around and assorted conversations was all gone. The entire base was dead silent, and dead serious, as if they were at war. As they donned their flight suits and harnesses, Chloe went into detail about the formation she wanted them to fly.

"Drew, you're #3 element lead. Watson, you fly on his wing. Caulfield will ride behind me. Marsh, be speedy with your ECM, I want you to stay low and out of the fight. Scott, stay down with Marsh and cover her 6 o'clock."

Everyone nodded or otherwise acknowledged their understanding.

"Graham!" She barked. Warren Graham, the nugget of the bunch and a habitual oaf, looked at her meekly. "Gonna have you fly #2 on my wing. Gotta keep an eye on you, or who knows what you'll get yourself into." She finished, tightening the last of her harnesses. Warren said nothing, his face betraying little emotion besides fear. The entirety of Lighthouse was tense and quiet, but Chloe, as usual, was the same confident flight lead she always was. She was cool-headed and proud; a combat professional.

The pillar of the squadron, Chloe exuded an air of invincibility. Her confidence rubbed off on the others as they prepared, and the uneasy tension was replaced by a sense of focus and determination as they made their way out to the flight line. Max had been pretty much silent all morning, anxious as ever. Chloe, as usual, didn't miss a thing when it came to her. As they arrived at their plane, Chloe turned to her.

"Are you ready?" she asked. As with the previous day, the confident 'flight lead' demeanor was replaced with the gentle care of a lover.

Max nodded.

"Yes, I'm good. I feel way better than yesterday."

"Good," Chloe said, drawing Max into a hug.

"We'll tackle this thing together, like we always do," she added, pulling away.

"Like always," Max said with a smile, leaning up and placing a kiss on Chloe's lips. Chloe smiled widely as well, then took a deep breath and slipped her flight suit attitude back on, like a mask, along with her helmet.

"Now that we got the mushy shit out of the way, I feel like flying! Let's light those fuckers up!" she said, slapping Max on the shoulder and stepping up to the cockpit ladder. "Clear!" She called to the flight line crew, and they returned the call and started the F-15E's engines. Endowed with fresh confidence, Max donned her helmet as well and climbed her own ladder into the rear cockpit, strapping herself in and switching on all of her weapons displays and instruments. The rest of Lighthouse Squadron was starting their own engines as well, and soon the flight line was roaring with the sound of jets. Chloe exchanged a hand signal with the flight line crewman to the left of their plane, and then closed the canopy. The cacophony from outside was shut out, replaced by the loud rumbling of their own engines.

"Ready back there?" Chloe chirped from up front.

"Ready!" Max called back, confidently.

"Hell yeah," Chloe said, the grin audible in her voice.

Crewmen trotted all around them, removing equipment and fuel accouterments out of the way. The chocks were pulled, and soon the crewman in front of them was signaling to begin taxiing. Chloe applied a little throttle and the Strike Eagle began to move forward. Despite the nature of their mission, the promise of the speed yet to come and the freedom of the open skies was a never-ending source of excitement and Max was eager to get in the air.

"Tower, Lighthouse 1, ready for takeoff," Chloe said over the radio.

"Lighthouse 1, cleared for takeoff, runway 9L," the control tower replied.

"Cleared runway 9L, Lighthouse 1," Chloe piped back, and turned onto the taxiway. The sun shone brightly in the sky, and the clouds were plentiful and voluminous; perfect conditions for a flight.

"Lighthouse 1, taking off," Chloe announced into the radio, and lined up on the runway. "Here we go," she said, under her breath, and pushed the throttle all the way forward. The low rumble of the engines increased to a mighty roar, and the Strike Eagle leapt away, speeding down the runway. Chloe deftly pulled back on the stick, the nose pulled up and they effortlessly climbed into the air. Max gazed at the sky as Chloe raised the landing gear and banked right.

"This is Lighthouse 1, we're airborne. Holding short until the rest of the gang is up here too. Hurry your asses up!" she added, as Warren took off after them, followed by Drew, Kate, Juliet, and lastly Brooke.

"Form up," Chloe ordered, turning to the direction of their objective. The rest of the Squadron formed up on her wings in an arrow formation, with Kate above and behind them. "Lighthouse, proceed to your objective. Good luck," The control tower said, and Lighthouse sped away.

-Notes-

Wizzo - WSO

WSO - Weapon Systems Officer, responsible for operation of all onboard weapons systems

G-LOC - G-force induced Loss Of Consciousness

RTB - Return To Base

AWACS - Airborne Warning And Control System

AMRAAM - AIM-120 Advanced Medium Range Air-to-Air Missile

Clean - All external weaponry expended

Bogey / Bogies - Unidentified radar contact

UAV - Unmanned Aerial Vehicle

CAP - Combat Air Patrol

ECM - Electronic Counter-Measures

6 o'clock - Directly behind

Nugget - Rookie

Element / Element Lead - Core principle of the 'Finger Four' formation. Flight of four aircraft divided into two 'Elements' of two aircraft each. #1 and #3 aircraft are Element Leads and are typically more experienced. Aircraft #2 and #4 are less experienced and fly as 'Wingmen' to their Element Leads. Combat initiative is taken by Element Leads; Wingmen are tasked with the immediate protection of the Element Leads only, unless instructed to engage independently or otherwise dismissed from those duties. A fifth aircraft may be attached to the #3's Element as an extra Wingman. Additional aircraft would be organized into further Elements, with all odd-numbered aircraft as Element Leads and all even numbered flying as Wingmen.  
This formation becomes unwieldy and inefficient in numbers greater than 6 or 8.


	2. Imminent Threat

Spirits were high amongst Lighthouse Squadron as they made their way to the combat zone.

They hadn't yet been connected with an AWACS, and the radio was alight with small talk.

"Get a look at that," Chloe said, looking out towards the sun, wreathed behind clouds, "It doesn't get any prettier than that,"

"That's beautiful," Kate added, "Right, Ice Queen?" she said, speaking to her EWSO, Victoria Chase. Victoria was typically very quiet, but she was quick to respond now.

"I wish I had a camera with me, this is gorgeous up here. Photographers don't often get to see the sky from this angle," she mused.

After a short while of small talk, their radios all lit up with the beeping tone that signified a priority transmission was incoming.

"This is AWACS, callsign Cheerleader, this mission is now under my command," she stated. The conversations ceased, and Max could feel the tone of the entire squadron shifting.

"What's the word, AWACS? How many bandits are we facing?" Chloe asked.

"Thirty-five, with sixteen more incoming," Cheerleader replied.

"Jesus christ, thirty-five?" Chloe exclaimed, "How many of those fuckers do they have lined up?"

Max widened her eyes and could hear similar outbursts from the rest of the squadron.

"Cut the chatter," AWACS snapped, before continuing. "Washington Air National Guard squadrons Spectre and Coyote will be joining you for the duration of this operation."

_Reinforcements? This must really be dire, we don't usually get any outside support, _Max thought.

"Roger that," Chloe replied. "Alright, get into combat formation,"

Kate and Victoria's EA-18G pitched down and dived away with Brooke. Warren moved in closer to Chloe and Max, and Juliet formed up behind Drew.

"Arriving at the combat zone shortly," Cheerleader announced. "Spectre and Coyote have already joined forces and engaged. You guys will arrive right in the middle of the action. We have the upper hand, but that doesn't mean we can ease up. Good luck," she said, and Chloe was quick to reply.

"Keep an eye on us up there, AWACS,"

Max took a deep breath and tried her best to steel herself. She had the utmost confidence in Chloe's abilities, but a battle was a battle, no matter how good the pilot.

As if sensing her trepidation, Chloe switched to the closed-circuit channel.

"Max, you ready?" She said. "Ready," Max replied, trying her best to sound confident.

"Good," Chloe replied, "Just stay calm and do your best. I know you'll do great, you always do," She reassured sweetly. The words were already taking effect; Max felt the tension lift a bit, and a sense of confidence started to settle instead.

"Thanks, Chloe," Max said. "I love you," she added, after a pause.

Chloe was silent for a moment, then replied quietly.

"I love you too. More than anything,"

"90 seconds to operational airspace penetration," Cheerleader announced. "All aircraft, you are cleared to engage, weapons free."

Chloe hit the master arm switch and armed all of their weapons.

"Lighthouse," Chloe began, switching back to the general channel, "Switch to ARH missiles, let's get this thing started. Snapshot, get us ready," she ordered.

Max selected their AIM-120 AMRAAM missiles and armed them.

"Ready," she called, as the other members of Lighthouse all gave similar callouts.

"We've got tone," Max announced, her focus on the MFD.

"Cleared hot!" she called a moment later.

"All callsigns, shoot! Lighthouse 1, fox three!" Chloe said, pressing the button atop her joystick.

An AMRAAM missile on their right wing dropped off its station, and then a massive plume of fire burst out of its rear and it sped off. Everyone else did the same, all of them now flying through five smoke trails.

Max tracked the missiles on her radar scope.

"On course," she said, watching the five blips intently as they approached the dogfight taking place in the distance.

All five shots met targets, and explosions could be seen in the sky ahead.

"Splash five!" Max exclaimed excitedly. Chloe pumped her fist up front.

"How do you like that, AWACS!" she gushed, "Five shots, five kills! Whoo!"

"Good shooting," AWACS replied calmly, "Forty-six bandits remaining," she said.

Their radios beeped to signal a new transmission.

"Well I'll be goddamned, it's Lighthouse!" the male voice said, excitedly, "Great timing! This is flight lead of ANG-5 Spectre, up ahead of you! You're a real sight for sore eyes! We've had some losses, get over here and help us push these bastards back!"

Chloe slammed the throttle forward and Max was pressed back into her seat.

"Well, what are we waiting for?! Let's show these guys that we know how to get wet, wild and do dirty, dirty things!" Chloe whooped over the comms.

Max and Chloe's F-15E rocketed ahead further than the other planes, but the others soon caught up with them as they lit off their own afterburners.

"Let's have another round!" Chloe called out. "Snapshot, we got tone?" She said back to Max.

Max's targeting display highlighted one of the enemy drones with a little green box, which soon turned red. "Tone! Clear!" She said.

"All planes, shoot! Fox three!" Chloe hollered, pressing the same button on her stick once more. This time, the missile dropped off of their left wing and raced away; four missiles from the other planes followed suit.

As before, Max tracked the missiles' progress on her display. This time, the drones were ready for it; only two missiles hit. "Splash two!"

"Shit!" Chloe barked, "Knew that first volley was too easy!"

"Forty-four remaining," AWACS announced curtly.

As they approached the furball up ahead, a large portion of the drones split off from the engagement and turned to face Lighthouse.

"Here they come! Get ready!" Chloe called out.

"Touchdown, take your element up high and split 'em up! Break now!" she ordered.

"Roger! Element 2 breaking off!" Drew replied as he and Brooke split off, lighting off their afterburners and climbing away.

A diagram of the squadron on one of Max's displays which showed all their planes close together and said 'ATK', now showed Drew's element separate from the rest, now displaying 'DISP'.

"Here we go, Snapshot! Get ready!" Chloe hollered into the back cockpit as a swarm of drones whizzed past the cockpit and she yanked back on the stick, plumes of vapor erupting from the F-15E's intakes and leading edges. Max could feel the G-forces trying to push her head down into her lap, but she performed AGSM as hard as she could, forcing her head upright and exhaling sharply through her teeth. She could hear Chloe doing the same sharp breaths up front. After what seemed like several minutes of high-intensity maneuvering, they came up directly behind a drone.

"Switch to IR!" Chloe called to Max, panting.

Max did as instructed, switching to the load of 4 AIM-9X heat-seeking missiles they were carrying. Since heat-seeking missiles had much simpler guidance systems than ARH missiles, Max's input wasn't required. All Chloe needed to do was aim and pull the trigger, and the massive launch aspect and excellent guidance capabilities of the AIM-9X would take care of the rest.

"Ready!" Max announced, panting herself. Her muscles were already sore from all the tensing up she was doing.

Having already found the drone's 6 o'clock, Chloe had the perfect firing angle.

Oswald Boelcke would have been proud.

"Fox two!" Chloe called out, hitting her firing switch.

An AIM-9X rocketed off of one of their rails and flew towards the drone. As quickly as it was gone, it had connected, slamming into the drone and erupting into a brilliant fireball.

"Splash one!" Max announced, and AWACS followed up with a reply of her own.

"35 drones remaining." She said.

"I'll be damned!" Chloe laughed, speaking to the second element, "You guys are cleaning up!"

No reply came from them, and Max looked over her shoulder and saw the rest of the first element were locked up in tight maneuvers of their own.

"You've shot down 16 bandits," AWACS announced, "You're standing toe-to-toe with the UAVs. Good work,"

No one gave any sort of reply as the fight continued. With all three squadrons fighting hard and fast, the UAVs' numbers were steadily decreasing, soon falling below 30, then below 20.

"19 UAVs left," AWACS called out. "Lighthouse, sitrep,"

"Lighthouse 1 A-OK,"

"Lighthouse 2 is alright," Warren panted out, having very clearly not practised his AGSM, already sounding exhausted.

"3 is good," Drew called out, his voice perfectly measured and steady by contrast.

"This is 4, all good!" Came Kate's reply, followed by Brooke, then Juliet.

"This Lighthouse 5, taken light damage but still airworthy!"

"6 here, still alive!"

Chloe and Max continued their harsh maneuvers, arriving behind another drone. Chloe pulled right up on it, pulling the trigger on her stick, and the M61 20mm vulcan cannon in their right wing root spewed out shells with a roar and shredded the drone ahead of them.

"GodDAMMIT I love this job!" Chloe hollered, pulling an aileron roll as the wrecked remains of the drone fell past them.

"Carrot! Begin ESM coverage now!" Chloe called out.

"Roger! Connecting ESM for Lighthouse squadron!" Kate called out in return, and a small display on Max's instrument panel lit up to indicate their missile GQ had been increased.

"Snapshot, what's our load?" Chloe asked.

Max took a quick inventory of all the weaponry they still had left.

"No AMRAAMs, 1 Sidewinder and 744 cannon shells left!" she called out.

"Got it," she said, "Lighthouse, weapons check!" Chloe ordered.

Max took mental notes as the rest of the squadron announced what weaponry they all had remaining.

All in all, between the 6 of them, they had 4 AMRAAMs, and 6 Sidewinders to work with.

"AWACS, how many left?" Chloe asked. Cheerleader's reply was as swift as ever.

"16 remaining," she said matter-of-factly.

"Alright," Chloe announced, "Let's get ready to wrap this up!"

Coyote and Spectre's help had been invaluable, even with their depleted numbers, and the end of the engagement was in sight.

"Wait a minute...hold it," Cheerleader called over the radio. "All bandits turning north," she said.

"Lighthouse, verify," Chloe ordered.

"Confirmed, all bandits turning to vector 350," Drew replied.

"Why are they disengaging?" Max asked. "What are they doing?"

Multiple members of Lighthouse chimed in with similar questions before being cut off by Cheerleader.

"Cut the chatter! New contact incoming from due west at high speed! It's faster than anything else we've come across!" she announced.

Max checked her radar scope and saw there was, indeed, a new contact approaching rapidly from the west.

"We cannot authorize a withdrawal at this time! All callsigns, snap to heading 280 and intercept immediately! Engagement clearance stands!"

Chloe snapped hard on the stick and pulled to the appropriate heading.

"Lighthouse, form up!" she called.

The rest of the squadron formed up on either side of her and Max, with Kate still flying below them.

"AWACS," Chloe called out, "Can you identify?"

"Negative," Cheerleader replied, "Diminished radar return, it must have LO properties,"

"Damn," she said under her breath.

The unknown continued to approach, but it was still too far away to visually identify.

Their radios all beeped with a priority transmission from Cheerleader.

"Stand by! We're analyzing the situation! I'll run an aircraft analysis and fill you in ASAP!"

Abruptly, Warren's F-16C raced ahead of them at full afterburner.

"Gorilla, what the hell are you doing?!" Chloe barked.

"Lighthouse 2, maintain your element! Do not break off!" Drew ordered.

Warren continued to race ahead of them.

"Don't worry, Max! I got this!" He said, pulling further ahead.

"Gorilla! Get back in formation! And use callsigns, goddammit!" Chloe shouted over the radio.

No reply came as Warren closed on to the unknown.

"Aircraft analysis complete!" Cheerleader announced, "Sukhoi, model-30SM! Codename, 'Flanker'! This aircraft is equipped with thrust vectoring nozzles and all-aspect missile launch capability! Exercise caution!"

"Be ready!" Chloe called to the other members of Lighthouse still in formation. Warren was still far ahead.

As Warren approached the Su-30SM head on, as if he was attempting to joust it, it veered and turned hard to the right, and Warren fell in behind it.

The Flanker maneuvered very lazily, but just out of Warren's reach. To his credit, he did an admirable job of staying on its 6 o'clock.

"Blackish-brown body! White wingtips!" Warren called out, "I think it's got RAM coating!"

"That explains why we didn't see it," Max said.

After a few more moments of an obvious game of cat-and-mouse, the Flanker lit off its afterburners and sped away; Warren followed suit and kept up the chase. The rest of Lighthouse was still out of engagement range, just barely.

"Gorilla, disengage!" Chloe called into the radio, to no avail.

As the rest of Lighthouse looked on, Warren was closing in on his prey and finally seemingly had a workable firing angle.

"I've got tone! Lighthouse 2, Fox-"

Warren was cut off mid-sentence by the Flanker suddenly rising up on its rear like a cobra, seemingly stopping in place. Warren sped past, and the Flanker leveled off, now having assumed the role of the predator.

"Shit!" Chloe barked, "Evade! Lighthouse 2, get away from the enemy!"

Warren desperately jinked back and forth but the Flanker effortlessly matched his every move.

"Support!" Warren called out, the sheer terror in his voice chilling Max's blood.

"Lighthouse 1! Anybody! Support! I can't-" Warren was cut off by a missile connecting with his plane right behind the cockpit, the entire airframe erupting into an angry orange-red fireball.

"Goddammit!" Chloe shouted.

"Lighthouse 2, lost," Cheerleader dryly reported.

Warren's vanquisher rolled over and dived for the deck, and soon was enveloped by the low-floating rain clouds. Its radar signature began to flicker and fade, then it was gone.

"Where'd he go?" Chloe growled, scanning all around.

"He's long gone by now. Sorry," Cheerleader reported.

Max wanted to say something to Chloe but the words didn't come. The tension in the cockpit was thick enough to be cut with a knife.

Just then, Drew's F-22A formed up alongside them.

"Dammit, I knew bringing him up here was a bad idea. Sorry, Misfit," he said.

Chloe said nothing. The other pilots were silent as well.

"Picture clear, airspace sanitized. All callsigns, RTB," Cheerleader directed.

Wordlessly, Chloe turned to their return vector and the other Lighthouse members silently formed up on their wings.

"Good work," Cheerleader said.

Max desperately wanted to console Chloe, but knew good and well that in-flight was not the place for such a discussion.

She sighed heavily as Chloe applied more throttle, clearly eager to put the mission and the day behind them.

-Notes-

EWSO - Electronic Warfare Support Officer, responsible for operation of all onboard Electronic Warfare systems.

ARH - Active Radar Homing, typically referred to as a 'fire and forget' munition, missiles of this type are capable of self-guidance without any further input from the deploying aircraft after launch.

MFD - Multi-Function Display, small screen which can be set to display various tidbits of information.

Splash - Informative call to indicate a hostile aircraft has been shot down.

AGSM - Anti-G Strain Maneuver, the act of tensing up all muscles below the neck and carefully regulating breathing in order to force blood to stay in the head to prevent G-force induced loss of conscious.

IR - Infrared, missiles of this type rely on the infrared heat signatures of targeted aircraft to perform guidance. Colloquially known as 'Heatseekers'.

AIM-9X - AIM-9X 'Sidewinder' infrared missile.

Oswald Boelcke - German fighter pilot, flew in World War 1 and accrued 40 kills. Wrote the _Dicta Boelcke,_ one of the first documents created for the express purpose of teaching offensive fighter combat and maneuvering. While somewhat dated by modern standards, many of the basic principles of maneuvering presented in the _Dicta Boelcke_ are still taught today.

Sitrep - Situational report, call to report on current situation and status.

ESM - Electronic Support Measures

LO - Low Observable, aircraft design with the intent of diminishing potential radar return.

RAM - Radar Absorbent Material, a coating which can be applied to aircraft which absorbs radar waves, thereby reducing radar returns and rendering the aircraft more difficult to detect via radar.


End file.
